


The Fifteen Things I Hate About Marco Bodt

by Colored_eyes_101



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Freckled Satan, Freckles, Friends to Lovers, Future make outs, High School AU, Horse Jokes, M/M, Modern AU, Romance, Sweet, Underage Drinking, dalmation doggies, gay boys, haha - Freeform, horsie, male piercings, marco is openly gay, quiet jean, school au, sly marco, while jean is normally straight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 17:58:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1313977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colored_eyes_101/pseuds/Colored_eyes_101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I sunk deeper and deeper into the embrace, until it felt as though we had fused together and become one. I buried my nose into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. He smelled like Mexican bread and cherries. I pressed my chest against his so tightly, it was a wonder how he, let alone I, could still breathe. My arms were bound around his shoulders, in such a tight hold, he wouldn't even be capable of comprehending an escape from my grasp. My hair had become disheveled from the contact between his shoulder and his chest, making me appear messier then I was already known to be. And I still couldn't settle down the racing heart tucked away inside of my chest. All I knew was that I felt at home in his arms.</p><p>But hey, it's not that I liked him.</p><p>In fact, there were a good many things I hated about him.</p><p>To be precise, there were fifteen.</p><p>Fifteen things I hated about Marco Bodt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. His Freckles

**Author's Note:**

> My spellings are:  
> Marco Bodt  
> Jean Kirschtein  
> Eren Jaeger  
> And Etc

            I’ve always hated freckles.

            I mean, don’t get me wrong, if you've got them, and you like them, then good for you. But me? No, I fucking hate them. They're just _stupid_ spots that thrive on the _stupidest_ of faces. And I had them. I had freckles for the first 10 years of my miserable little life.

            I had the kind that, as you grew older, faded over time. However, mine were dark and ugly little fuckers that coated the bridge of my nose; _and just_ , the bridge of my nose. All of my 2nd grade class mates would tease me about them and call me pepperoni face. And when they did, they received a civil punch in their perfect, blank canvas of a nose. And man, did it feel good to collide my fist with their perfect face, which wasn’t so perfect anymore after I’d punched them. But I was still always self-conscious about them, whether they be permanent, or fade away by the time I’m in middle school. I just never felt happy about wielding them. I once snuck some of my mother’s make-up into the bathroom before school, and tried to cover them up with her concealer; but her skin was even paler then mine, and it stood out. Just before I headed out for our car, since my mom preferred driving me herself to school, she had spotted the pale smudges on my face, and scolded me, saying:

 

_“You’re a little boy Jean! Little boys don’t, and never should, wear makeup!”_

 

            Maybe she thought I was wearing it because I was a gay seven year old or something, but damn she made me practically wipe my skin clear off my skull, with a steaming hot rag, as punishment for either; stealing her makeup, or possibly being queer. However, now my freckles had faded into nothing but little microscopic blonde spots that required a magnifying glass to appear, even a little bit noticeable. And though I wasn’t proud of them, I was glad they were out of my way. But then he just had to waltz into my class with his freckled, fucking, _everything_.

 

“My name is Marco Bodt! ... _hi_.”

 

            He announced his name so proudly, only to give a sheepish little ‘hi’ to wrap his pathetic introduction to a close. Even though our high school was already a month into the first semester, of what was _my_  sophomore year, one of the new freshmen’s had dropped out early, for no real apparent reason. Leaving a space open for some kid on the waiting list. And this freckled idiot just so happened to be that kid. Principle Zackly had brought him in, and with my classmates and I distracted, had managed to make his escape back to his office. The kid really did look as nervous as fuck, though he paid no mind to his emotions, if he was. He wore a dark teal hoodie, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and had a pair of dark denim skinny jeans rolled up to his ankles. A pair of flat cherry red sneakers exposed said ankles, along with the sea of freckles they were drenched with. His hair was a dark, blackish brown, matching his rich coffee brown eyes that whenever he smiled, pinched creases would form in the corners. His skin was tanned gold (making me a jealous mother fucker) and wore a smile that exposed a single dimple on his left cheek. And then to top it all off, he had a starry night’s worth of _freckles_.

            No joke, they were literally everywhere. Whatever skin was exposed from underneath his clothing, a patch of freckles would greet your eyes. I mean he just had to be part Dalmatian. There was no way he couldn’t be related to some spotted animal. Seriously he had them on his ankles, his cheek bones, his knuckles, his elbows; I mean where could they not possibly be? My thoughts were interrupted when Mr. Smith, the homeroom teacher, began explaining the new kid’s sudden appearance since principle Zackly did a sucky job at that. I took the opportunity to stare at every single one of his fucking freckles. I was curious to know how many connect-the-dot games his parents had played on his sleeping face when he was a kid. How much they had to pay to convince his pediatrician he most definitely did not have chicken pox. How much he had been teased as a kid, and if he hated his freckles, like I had hated mine. I grew distracted by the thought of playing connect-the-dots on his freckle patches, and could have sworn I saw a dolphin in the freckle patch of his left outside ankle. Wait was that an owl peeping out underneath his sleeve, right there, on his right arm? Oh my god I found a dick on his knuckle, _oh my god_.

            Well screw the anti-freckle-fetish. This kid was fun as fuck. It was like he was a kiddie coloring book. All I wanted to do with him was scribble all over his face with a white chubby crayon. I was near mortified when he caught my stare, and smirked in my direction. It was a devious smirk too. Like he was Satan himself. _The freckled Satan_. His freckles were actually just bits of blood splatter that had dyed into his skin, symbolizing all the murders he had committed. Of course, that was the only explanation for a smirk like that coming from a cutie like him. _Cutie_. No. Just fucking no, Jean. What the fuck Jean. Jean, fucking no. Oh my god. No way I’m queer. No way I’m gay. No way I’m bi or a frying pan or whatever. No way in fuck’s name.

 

            Oh god Mom is gonna kill me.

 

            Dad is gonna disown me.

 

            Oh god I really fucking hate his freckles.


	2. His Childish Personality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's mocking me. He must be.

      I've always thought of myself as mature.

      Okay, so maybe wearing my mother’s makeup because I was self-conscious was a childish thing to do, but I was just a seven year old fuck up at the time. But as I grew older, I liked to consider myself worthy to be deemed of the term ‘ _grown up_ ’. And ever since then I've disliked childish people. Because it feels as though they're just acting that way to mock me. One of the many being, jack ass Eren Gayger. Fuck that little shit, he really makes me lose it sometimes.

      Mr. Smith once again, rudely interrupted my thoughts, as the Freckled Satan found himself a seat next to mine. Well fuck you too, you son of a bitch.

 

“As you were all reminded yesterday, the autumn, history class field trip will be scheduled for November 2nd. Make sure your permission slips are signed and given to me, before, or by October 15th.”

 

      Ah. The class field trip. It was strictly for the Freshman and Sophomores, and the rumor going around is that we’re going to a boring ass art museum. But hey, naked bitches hanging on walls are cool with me. For the remainder of homeroom, I tried reading _Catching Fire_ , but  _he_ kept distracting me. He was staring at me, like he had nothing better to do and honestly, it was annoying the fuck out of me. The bell suddenly rung and everyone started to make their way out of the classroom. I was in the flow of students, when Mr. Smith called me out of the crowd.

 

“Mr. Kirschtein, can I ask something of you?”

 

“Wha.” Yeah I know, an effortless response, but I really just wanted to get out of the classroom and away from Freckled Satan.

 

“Marco Bodt here, appears to have first, third, and fifth period, same as you. And I was wondering if you would show him around and help him get into the groove of his new schedule. Would you do that for me?”

 

      Marco stood beside Mr. Smith, with biggest, most dumb-ass grin. Like he just got away with something devious. I felt my throat drop, and stared at Mr. Smith for some sort of leverage.

 

_No._

 

_Nuh uh._

 

_Come on Mr. Smith! I don’t wanna!_

 

      If it had been any other case, Mr. Smith would have been able to read my face and get his answer. But clearly, he wasn't going to take any form of a no. I nodded hesitantly.

 

“Great! Then here is Marco’s locker number. I’m sure you can find out which hall it’s down. Thank you Jean.” He smiled warmly at me, as if I was an angel or some shit, while holding out a folded slip of paper with the locker number on it. He then turned to look at Marco whispering something barely audible,

 

“ _Jean will take good care of you. Hope you have a nice first day.”_

 

      Marco’s smile visibly widened at that, and he turned his attention to me.

 

“Hi Jean.” He said.

 

      He pronounced my name perfectly. _Shj-ean_. Most people usually pronounced it like John or Gene if they were reading it from a list or roll call. I felt a little more at ease around him because of that.

  
“Well, uh, let’s go to, your locker? I guess?”

 

“Yeah. My locker.” He responded equally awkwardly.

     

      I made my way to the door, looking over my shoulder to make sure Marco was in tow. Once we made it into the hall, which was bustling with students, I unfolded the slip Mr. Smith had given me and read the locker number.

 

_120_

 

“Do you remember your locker combination?” I called over my shoulder, only to realize Marco was walking right beside me. He was taller than me.  By about half a head. That really pissed me off. He was just strutting beside me, looking down at me like I was a little daisy and he was a fucking pine tree. Would he be a pine tree? I was thinking he would be something more tropical, or flowery.

 

“Yeah, I think so. They’re 5-digit locks right?”

 

“Yep.” Wow Kirschtein. So classy.

 

“Then yeah I probably do…”

 

      He hesitated for a moment, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to go about wording it. Finally he broke through the second long silence.

 

“I like your T-shirt. It’s from Portal right?” He asked skimming his eyes over it.

 

      I could tell that wasn't what he originally wanted to say, but I went along with it for his comfort.

  
“Yeah. And thanks.” I probably made him more uncomfortable with that kind of response. Damn.

 

“I’m assuming you've played the game before?”

 

“Fuck yes.” Wait ago Kirschtein. Shock him into a coma with your foul language.

 

“Ha ha. So I’m also guessing you've played Portal 2?”

 

“Fuck yes again.” I smiled. I guess my language didn't stun him in the slightest.

 

“I started playing Portal 2 last week, but I’m stuck in the GLaDOS boss level. And Wheatley has been doing shit, to help me out.”

 

      I laughed at that one. My eyes caught on the hall to our left, which led to his lockers. Marco was glancing around confused and started to walk past.

 

“Wait, Marco.” I called as I grabbed for his hand.

     

      He turned back to look at me, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

 

“Did you just grab my dick?” He asked, his voice shrill.

 

      What!?

      I stared at him bewildered, glancing at his stern gaze and back to his hand, and back to his gaze and back to his hand. What the fuck was he trying to say? Was his hand actually his dick? Did his hand touch his dick? Well no shit, I’m sure it has at some point of his teen hood. I know I have. But back on topic, what the hell was he trying to say!?

      And then I saw it.

      That sly, bratty bastard.

      I remembered from back in Mr. Smith’s class, when I saw that one particular freckle patch on his knuckles. The one that looked like a-

“You fucking son of a bitch.” I smirked, my eyes trained on the dick shape his knuckle freckles formed. His smile showed plain through his eyes as his gaze softened, and those little creases formed in the corners.

 

“ _Gotcha_.” He said softly.

 

“You should have seen your face! You looked traumatized! It was the best!” He continued and laughed. It was a nice laugh. It was cute and childish. Cute. God fucking dammit Jean. Cut it out.

 

“Yeah, well you scared the shit out of me. Did you fucking Practice that? You were annoyingly convincing. I thought I was seeing things that weren't what they really were.” I growled.

 

“Yeah well that’s the joy of freckles. Though I wish mine were more like your's. Your's are cuter.”

 

      What? He wanted my freckles? They were _cuter_?

 

“What? My freckles are shit man. I hate them.” I responded, feeling a visible blush rise in my cheeks.

 

“ **Why**!? They’re adorable! They probably suit you better then me anyways.”

 

“Marco, don’t. That’s gay.” I teased.

 

“To be expected of me.” He grinned.

 

“Oh.” I responded. He basically just came out to me right then and there. I hadn’t been expecting that. It fairly surprised me. I hadn't figured Marco was gay. But then again, I hadn’t figured him exactly straight either.

 

“Oh sorry, you don’t mind do you? Shit, I’m sorry.” He said shakily.

 

“Nah its fine. I’m not homophobic so it’s cool.” I responded hurriedly.

     

      I started inching him forward as we made our way down the rows of lockers, eventually finding _120_. I watched as Marco spun the dial, until there was an audible *click* and Marco popped the door open. He stuffed some of the stuff in the messenger bag that had been slung over his shoulder, into his locker, and turned back to me. He passed me his schedule and we walked in silence to our next class, Honors English. I turned to look at Marco, who lagged behind, and tried to strike up a conversation again.

 

“What’s your favorite color?” Fucking lame Kirschtein.

 

“Hm? Oh teal. It’s like aqua’s older brother. So I like it. What about yours?”

 

“Orange.”

 

“What? Why orange. Nobody likes orange.” He laughed.

 

“I’ll have you know, orange is a lovely color. And there are plenty of people out there, who I’m sure, have come to adore the color orange, thank you very much.” I replied with a snarky tone.

 

“It’s so…so, blegh.”

 

“Blegh?” I asked with a smirk.

 

“Blegh.” He assured me.

 

      He was so fucking childish. It really ticked me off. He shouldn't even be allowed in a high school. It was a wonder how he'd made it past the first grade. I really hated how much of a child he made me feel like when I was around him. And how much I liked him for it. Maybe I am gay. Maybe.

      But just for Marco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blegh.  
> Sorry it took so long to update! My tumblr is Colored-eyes101 which may or may not have pictures related to this or my other fanfictions~  
> While writing this, I was listening to Rainbow Veins by Owl City. I don't know why, but it sounded suiting to the story I guess. ~(T_T)~


	3. He Seems To Know Me More Then I Know Myself?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bus rides and snack dealing.

      I’ve always considered myself an _honest_ person.

      Back in middle school, if someone asked me my opinion, I would tell them what I honestly felt, and make it as harsh and cruel as possible. That was just my thing. I wanted to see how much it took to get a rise out of people. Eren was the first one to initiate a fight afterwards, which now I can honestly say, shouldn’t have surprised me. He asked me what I had thought of Armin, ( _Who was his best friend apparently_ ) and I told him Armin looked like a flat chested girly girl with an annoying squeaky voice and clung to Eren as if his/her life depended on it. It was really mean of me, but it worked wonders on Eren, who punched me right in the nose, and started screaming at me. We both agreed never to tell Armin why we had fought with each other, since Eren must have known I didn’t really mean it. Even though technically I did, since at first I had really thought Armin was a girl.

      But when I was in the 8th grade, my parents told me they were splitting, and that my mom would be taking me to go live with her in one of her rentals. I was surprised, and angry too, since my parents had never really _acted_ like they wanted to end their marriage. Maybe they had done it on purpose for my sake, and if that had been the case, it really worked. I didn’t argue with it though. Because what did my opinion matter? I just decided to go along with it. After that, I sort of kept things to myself. If someone asked me my opinion, I would tell them I didn’t have one. People seemed to like the new me, so I didn’t really care if it felt unnatural or unlike _me_.

      There must have been a bump on the road, because the slight nudge from beneath the bus shook me from my thoughts.

 

“ _Jeannnnn_ , answer me!” Whined Sasha from the seat behind me.

 

      It had been about a month since I first met Marco.

_November 2 nd_

      Fieldtrip day.

 

“Wha?” This is a new statement of mine. It is me now. I am the wha.

 

“I asked if you wanted Chips Ahoy, or Lays?” She answered.

 

“ _Are you seriously going to eat on the bus_!? _What if you get caught_?” Marco hissed in a whisper. He looked at us with wide and fearful eyes. Heh.

 

“Oh come on Marco, this is so unlike you. Sasha is our professional snack dealer when it comes to long bus rides. She’s got your back!” I assured him. I knew he desperately wanted the Chips Ahoy. He ate a whole box of them at my house once.

 

      Yes, Marco has been to my house. So what? It wasn’t like we did anything except eat my cupboards out and play Portal. He only came to my house so I could help him beat a few levels. Nothing more. Nothing gay. Just, games. And food. All of my food. I’m surprised he’s not fucking bloated or something.

 

“I-I…ugh. Gimme some cookies then please.” Marco asked, defeated. I fucking knew it.

 

“Since you asked _soooo_ nicely.” Sasha snickered, handing him a handful from the box.

 

“ _DON’T GIVE HIM ALL OF THEM_!” Whined Connie. He had been my child hood friend since preschool. We didn’t hang out that much, but when we did, Sasha would always be there. Connie and Sasha were inseparable.

 

“I didn’t Connie geez. Here have some Cheetos.” Sasha offered.

 

“Nuh uh.” I stated before reaching back and ripping the Cheetos out of Sasha’s grasp.

 

“These fuckers are mine.” I responded, ripping open the bag and shoving a handful in my mouth.

 

“Jean you dick.” Connie growled, eyeing the bag in my hand like I had just stolen his baby and ate its head off.

 

“ _HIDE IT_!” Marco whisper-screamed as his eyes suggested towards Mr. Zacharias, our history teacher, who was eyeing us suspiciously. When we all stopped dead in our tracks and stared at him, he turned back forward and leaned over to whisper to one of the parent chaperones, seeming to ignore us completely. After what seemed like 5 minutes freeze _sitting down_ we concluded that we were in the safe, and continued what we were doing. Stuffing our big, fat mouth’s with illegal food.

 

“That was a close one.” Marco whispered before shoving a cookie in his mouth.

 

“Ha. It’s always like that. Mr. Zacharias has a nose that can smell shit from a mile away. But he never rats on us. He’s cool.” Connie chuckled, as he dug through Sasha’s food stash trying to find something that suited his tastes.

 

“I heard that the museum is right next to a shopping center. They’re gonna let us wander and buy stuff once the museum tour is over! That’s awesome right!?” Sasha squealed, before consuming about 17 potato chips.

 

“Good thing you’re broke then, _huh_?” I teased. Sasha glared at me, before turning and begging Connie to share some of his cash with her. The two proceeded to get into an argument about their friendship, ignoring Marco’s pleads to keep it quiet. He eventually gave up and turned to look at me. Staring at me intently.

 

“Wha?” Like I said, I am the wha.

 

“You seem really quiet. Why?” He whispered to me, abandoning the 3 remaining cookies tucked in his palm.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You seem like the more, boisterous kind of person. Like the kind who would try and start arguments with the other loud kids on the bus.”

 

“What? Where did you get that idea? I mean, you’re not exactly wrong, I used to do that, but now I don’t.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I dunno. Why do you keep asking?”

 

“Dunno.”

 

“Well then, stop asking.”

 

“Okay…

Hey Jean?”

 

      Ugh, what the fuck did he want?

 

"What now Marco."

 

“What’s your favorite animal?”

 

“Why are you asking me so many questions?”

 

“Because. Just answer it.”

 

“I don’t know, um I guess I like dogs? Maybe?”

 

“Oh yeah? What kind?” He sounded fucking excited for some weird reason. Like I had just told him a secret that was just between the two of us.

 

“ _HE LOOOOOVES DALMATIONS_!” Sasha squealed from behind me.

 

“ _WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW_!?” I whisper-screamed back to her. I could feel my face turning red. Why? Maybe because I fucking said I thought MARCO WAS RELATED TO A DALMATION!? I guess I forgot to mention Dalmatians are actually my favorite dog breed. Maybe.

 

“Just ignore her.” I encouraged. Marco nodded; the same stupid grin he wears when he figures he got away with something, clearly apparent on his freckled fucking face.

 

“Got it.” He smirked. I tried to transfer the subject back on track.

 

“What about you? Your favorite animal? I mean?” I slurred.

 

“Horses. Thoroughbred specifically.” He answered proudly.

 

“Oh. Do you ride?”

 

“I want to. One day. There’s this one I really like, but I’m waiting for him to get used to me first. Maybe then, I might attempt a go at it.” He replied grinning broadly.

 

“Why haven’t you tried ye-” I started. But was interrupted when the bus came to a halt.

 

“Alright everyone, please gather your things together- Hey quiet down. Mr. Jaeger I’m looking at you. Quiet. Okay, please everyone, gather your things and be quiet as the chaperones get situated. I have a list here, of the groups you will be placed in, so please quiet down as I read them off.”

 

      I think I was praying silently to myself, to be placed in a group with Marco. I don’t know why, I just figured it would be funner with him. Of course _funner_ is a word, shut up.

 

“And in the third group, Mr. Carolina’s group, we have Mikasa Ackerman, Marco Bodt, Eren Jaeger, Jean Kirschtein, and Thomas Wagner.”

 

      I would like to thank God, and especially Satan, for giving me his freckled son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MARCO NO. STAHP IT. Ha ha I hope you guys caught on to Marco's joke. If not, you should look harder.


	4. He's Usually Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Marco is challenged, he's a little bit of a rule breaker.

      I’ve always been so sure of myself.

      I mean, I had to be. I was ‘Honest Jean Kirschtein’ after all.

      But, being sure of myself didn’t always mean that I was right. Half of my accusations were just made up on my own leisure. And the other quarter was random assumptions. So, even though I may have been honest, it didn’t mean I was right. Make sense? Yeah, I think it does.

      Marco nudged me in the shoulder, pointing at one of the paintings eagerly. He was so excited and into the hall artsy shit, so it was pretty much just me and my own. Eren was forced into focusing, because he figured that there must be a quiz for all this tomorrow, while Mikasa was skimming through the guide manual. Thomas was trying to get on Mr. Carolina’s good side; showing off his minor knowledge in the arts, mainly because it was clear to everyone he had a huge crush on Mr. Carolina’s daughter Mina. I was so fucking bored. I thought I’d never catch a break.

 

“You’re not a museum person, are you?” Marco stated, like it was more of a fact, then a question.

 

“Nah. It’s all, really boring to me. Hard to focus.” That and the fact that I had a huge adrenaline hype coursing through my blood, after downing a watermelon Gatorade before we started the tour. It wasn’t even much of a _tour_ since we didn’t have some hot tour guide, leading us around.

 

“This is the last exhibit. So afterwards we’ll be going to that shopping center. That might be more exciting.” Marco suggested.

 

“Ha. Don’t even bother Marco.  Jean is the lifeless drag of the party. No way you’re gonna get a hype outta him.” Eren smirked.

 

“Why don’t you just fuck yourself with a cactus?” I sneered at him.

 

“Don’t mind if I d-”

 

“ _Boys_! _Don’t curse_! _We are on a class field trip_! _You must deem yourselves as respectful, obedient, well behaved students_! _Quiet down immediately_!” Mr. Carolina whisper-scolded.

 

      Eren groaned before turning to look at another painting. Marco followed up Mr. Carolina’s scolding, suggesting I try to have a little more self-control over my temperament. He was smiling though, so he was clearly just kidding with me, but I still couldn’t help, but want to punch him in the face for it. Mr. Carolina had been taking his sweet time, admiring all the exhibits, and even though it was the last one, he took his sweet time here too. Finally, he suggested our group head for the shopping center and relax; maybe quiz each other on the things we learned. Everyone whined about it, except for Thomas, who just encouraged Mr. Carolina. It was evident there would be no changing his mind, and it appeared as though this boring ass field trip would just get worse.

      As we headed through the shopping center parking lot, making our way to the entrances, Thomas had already begun blabbing about how much he had apparently _learned_ in the charcoal exhibit, catching all of Mr. Carolina’s attention in the process. Once we made it inside, Marco rushed up beside Mr. Carolina, whispering something in his ear.

 

“ _We’ll wait for you_.” Mr. Carolina suggested in a whisper back to Marco.

 

“ _No need_. _We’ll find you when we’re done_.” Marco responded.

 

“ _Alright then_. _Don’t take too long_. _Do you even know where the bathroom is_?”

 

“ _We’ll find it_.”

 

      Marco whipped back around, walking back towards me, gripping my bicep with his hand, and leading me backwards.

 

“ _WHAT ARE YOU DOING_?” I whispered at him.

 

“ _Going to the bathroom_.” He whispered back.

 

“ _Ew. No. I don’t wanna watch_.”

 

“ _I told Mr. Carolina we were going to the bathroom_. _Doesn’t mean we actually are_.”

 

“ _What do you mean_!?”

 

“ _Eren gave me a challenge, and I’m excepting it_.”

 

“What!?” I said, once we were out of hearing range from the rest of the group.

 

“I want to have fun with you. So that’s what I’m gonna do.”

 

“Fuck no! We’ll get in trouble!”

 

“Nah, we’ll have fun.”

 

“And get in trouble!”

 

“So your saying you’ll be having fun with me?”

 

“NO!”

 

“Challenge accepted.”

 

“UGH. FINE.” I groaned.

 

“I knew you would. You wouldn’t dare miss out spending an hour with good ol’ me.” He smirked.

 

“Ha. Wouldn’t miss it.” I jeered.

 

      He took me around a corner; his hand still firmly grasping my bicep, and took me straight to a taco stand. _Figures_. Of course he would.

      After ordering some churros and nachos, and eating them, since describing that would be hella gross, and boring, ( _Aside for the fact that Marco wouldn’t stop stealing from my nachos after he had already finished his)_ he dragged me to the apparel district. There were a fuck ton of body art shops, and shoe stores. I stopped in front of a piercing shop, gazing in. Marco turned and followed my gaze.

 

“You ever thought of getting your ears pierced?” He asked.

 

“Hell yes, but then my Mom would kill me.” I replied.

 

“What!? Why would momma Kirschtein kill my little Jeanie boy? She’s too nice!”

 

“You’ve only met her once. Plus, you’re a friend. Of course she’s gonna be nice around you.”

 

“That, or she just finds me a likeable person worth her affections. You should get the piercings though.”

 

“And get killed? No thank you.”

 

“Do you want them?”

 

“Yeah I do. But that doesn’t matter if I want them or not.”

 

“Why not? I mean, what’s the point of life if you don’t enjoy it the way you want to enjoy it? Life isn’t something that lasts, so why would you waste it away, bound down by all these religious rules, and opinions, and stupid shit that doesn’t even matter? Your mom can hate them, that’s her business. You like them? That’s yours. Plus, if you get in trouble, I’ll vouch for you. Just another reason for me to come over and play video games with you today!”

 

      I stared at him for a moment. Dazed. He was right I guess. A lot right. And he seemed pretty sure of it to, considering the smug grin he was wearing. Not to mention the fact that he had weaseled his way into my after school schedule. The sneaky little shit.

 

“So, is this your way of convincing me, that I would look 10 times hotter with earrings?” I teased.

 

“Yeah, uh I was thinking like, maybe a 3? Possibly 4.7?” He laughed, before nudging me into the shop.

      There were a ton of heavy metal band posters posted up, while classical music was playing in the background of the shop. Kind of a weird twist, but I guess whatever rocked the boat of the manager was their deal. Some chick came forward from the back, sporting a single nose piercing. She gave me a fake smile, before coming up behind the checkout counter.

 

“Whatcha want?” She asked, gum smacking in her mouth.

 

“Ears. His.” Marco nodded towards me.

 

“Kay. Come on sweetie let’s go on back.” She offered and started walking, whether or not she knew I was following. Marco slinked beside me, grinning like an idiot. He had every right to. He got what he want and he got it quickly. I felt like such a pushover.

 

“Sit here. Don’t scream.” She ordered, directing me over towards a stool in the corner.

 

“Here is the instructions for after you get them pierced. I’ll relay the important details to you now. You’ll be wearing starter studs for the first 4-6 weeks like, after you get them pierced. Do not remove them for that time. You’ll need to clean them daily, and like, have caution with your current hair products. Move them around every so often so they don’t like, adhere to your ear. Yada yada yada, you get the point. We have some new colored studs you can chose from, so go ahead and pick ahead of time, so they’re ready to like, put in after we pierce your ears, kay? The colors are on the instruction card. I’m gonna get the rubbing alcohol so you just like, chill for a moment kay? Boyfriend can keep you company.”

 

“He’s not my-”

 

“Like hell I’m not. Now pick some studs.” Marco stated.

 

      I stared at him for a moment, as he wiggled his eyebrows at me. I decided to ignore his little input, and instead looked at the stud colors.

 

“What colors are you gonna pick?” He asked.

 

“I was thinking orange.”

 

“Heh, _of course_.”

 

“But I kinda want to choose two colors.”

 

“ _Whoa_ , that’s an option!?”

 

“Yeah, I thought it’d be cool.”

 

“So, what colors are you gonna pick then?”

 

“I was thinking, orange…and teal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already planned for this to take place, and since I felt motivated, I thought I would update again today. I actually (tried) drawing jean for this, wearing his portal shirt and having his ear pierced, so if you want to see that then look on my Tumblr (Colored-eyes101)because I'm to lazy to link it haha.


	5. He's Not Afraid To Lead Sometimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're a leader because you're a baby. That's basically what he said.

      I’ve always been considered the alpha. No matter the situation, people seem to believe for some weird-ass reason, that I’m a good leader. I don’t know why they do, and it’s not like I ask to be, but in the end I always am. And it sucks.

‘ _JEAN YOU SHOULD BE HEAD OF OUR GROUP PROJECT!_ ’

‘I’m a shit at group projects.’

‘ _GREAT! HEY GUYS~ JEAN SAID HE’LL BE HEAD OF OUR GROUP PROJECT!_ ’

‘No I did not.’

‘ _WHOA THAT’S AWESOME JEAN,_ ’

‘ _WOW THANKS JEAN,_ ’

‘ _NO WAY WE'RE GONNA FAIL NOW JEAN,_ ’

‘ _JEAN YOU’RE SUCH A STEP FORWARD LEADER!!!!!!_ ’

      And then we fucking failed.

      That’s pretty much my entire childhood in a nutshell.

      But noooooooooooo, Jean’s the fucking best leader ever. It’s not even that flattering to me. Because after we failed, kids just assumed that I _made_ them fail, just to be an ass. Yet every little fucker continued to assume I was this amazing leader, and continued to follow my command. And I _still_ don’t fucking know why.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Marco asked, as we wandered around the mall, trying to locate the rest of our group.

“Of course I am. I’m not a baby.” I sneered.

“Well, you fricking leaped like mother fucking Peter Pan when she pierced your first ear. And screamed too. Of course I’m going to be concerned.”

“I’ll have you know, I _flinched a little_ , and I _groaned_. I didn’t leap, or scream thank you very much.” I muttered.

“Whatever you say baby.” He grinned.

“I’M NOT A BABY.”

“Honey.”

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK MARCO.”

“ _Quiet down. We’re underage teens wandering around a mall during school hours. We need to find Mr. Carolina before some old fart interrogates us_.” Marco whispered to me.

      I nodded, as he guided me through the waves of people, gripping my bicep, like if he were to let go, I would get lost in the crowd. Normally, I would be pissed, but I tried not to mind so much.

“ _THERE YOU ARE!_ ” Squealed a voice from behind us.

      Marco whipped around, dragging me with him. Mr. Carolina rushed up to us, worried anger filled his eyes. Thomas was in tow, a sickly identical expression laden on his face. Eren Gayger and Mi Casa were following them.

“ _WHERE ON EARTH DID YOU WANDER OFF TO!? WE WAITED AT THE BOOK STORE FOR THIRTY FIVE MINUTES! I ALMOST HAD TO ALERT MR. ZACHARIAS! THE WHOLE CLASS WOULD HAVE BEEN CRAWLING AROUND LOOKING FOR YOU TWO!_ ” Mr. Carolina squealed, for what seemed like the 80th time today.

“We got a little lost, looking for the bathroom.” Marco replied, fake remorse on his face. Well played Freckled Satan. Well played.

“ _FOR THIRTY FIVE MINUTES_!?”

“Jean was probably taking his sweet time, wiping his as-” Eren started, but not before Mikasa briefly elbowed him in the ribs, sending Eren doubling over in agony. Thank you, my childhood love~

“That doesn’t matter right now. We'll discuss it when we get back from the field trip. Right now we’re supposed to be meeting the rest of the class for lunch at the front of the shopping center. So let’s go before they notice we’re missing.” Mr. Carolina ordered shakily. No one argued with that.

      He started walking towards the north of the mall, Thomas blabbing to him again, clearly starting to irritate Mr. Carolina. Though if Thomas noticed the annoyance, he was ignoring it, cheerfully conversing with himself about how intriguing the structure of the mall was. I kinda felt sorry for Mr. Carolina. Kinda. Though let’s just be honest; I was laughing my ass off, that it just wasn’t me. Marco was still dragging me by my bicep, though we didn’t speak. And I felt no reason to try and start up conversation. Though I had lots of questions, referring to some of todays’ occurrences, I figured that right here and now, wasn’t the best time, or place to consult him about them. Maybe I would ask him another pointless favorite’s question. Yeah. Like ‘Yo Marco wha’s your favorite food? OH WAIT I KNOW, IT’S _MY_ FUCKING NACHOS’

      I was about to ask him what his favorite kind of music was, ( _And it better have been some kind of electric or techno shit_ ) except I was rudely interrupted by Eren, who was yanking down on my ear,

“WHOA JEAN, DID MARCO TAKE YOU TO GET YOUR FUCKING EARS PIERCED!?” He exclaimed.

      Everyone stopped in their tracks, to turn and gawk at me. I stammered a bit, unsure of what, or how they expected me to respond to that. I figured, distract them from the ears, by cursing up a storm and maybe they would be too focused on my vast knowledge of foul language, to notice my ears, had clearly not been pierced before Marco and I’s little disappearing act. But sadly, that was not necessary.

“We figured we would stop in a shop, and see if they had a bathroom we could use, so we stopped in a piercing shop, and they said if we wanted to use it, we had to be a buying customer, so Jean had to get his ears pierced for the sake of my fragile bladder!” Marco blurted, out of literally nowhere. I think I must have audibly choked on some laughter, because Marco jerked his gaze back at me, looking for me to give him some sort of back up.

“So…heh…so fragile.” I snickered. Marco shot a glare at me, before turning back to look at the rest of our group. No one said another word. Mr. Carolina just nodded, before easing the group to keep up the pace, before the rest of the class notices how late we’re gonna be, but not before muttering under his breath

“ _You should get that bladder checked by a doctor_.”

      Marco visibly winced, turning to look at me, his glare softening.

“ _You sooooo owe me for that_.” He whispered to me as we followed Mr. Carolina.

“ _With my life, Bodt_.” I whispered back with a grin.

“ _You owe me like, a fucking kiss or something_.”

“ _Hell, I owe you a one night stand for that_.”

“ _I might take you up on that offer Mr. Straight_.”

“ _Don’t be sexuality-ist. That’s more illegal than professional snack dealers_.”

“OH MY GOD CAN YOU TWO FUCKING NOT FLIRT SO OPENLY LIKE THAT.” Eren stated from behind us.

      Marco snickered slightly, as I glared back at Eren.

“But really, thanks for taking the lead back there.” I offered, after the little glaring contest I had with Eren, ended with Mikasa pinching Eren’s cheek.

“I’m never doing that again though. If anything, you were better suited to take lead then I was.” He replied.

“Why does everyone think that?”

“Think what?”

“Think that I’m a good leader? Literally everyone thinks that. It pisses me off! I’m a fucking awful leader who knows shit, and acts like shit, because I fucking love being a snotty little shit!?” I exclaimed. Luckily no one but Marco was actually paying attention to me.

“Why? I dunno, maybe because your weak? I mean, no. Don’t get me wrong, you’re not powerless, if anything, your weakness is what gives you power. It’s not like physical weakness, but more like mental weakness. Your just an ordinary human, that everyone can relate to in some way. Make sense?”

“Makes fucking sense that you honestly do believe I’m a fucking baby.”

“Jeannnnn. I didn’t mean it like tha-”

“I’m kidding. I think, I kinda catch on to what your trying to say to me. Kinda.”

In all honesty, I fucking didn’t.

      But screw it all, I just got myself a somewhat decent reason as to why people think I’m such a good leader. Even if it means I couldn’t completely understand it. Maybe I was just a too smart to understand kind of dumbass. Maybe.

“ _Jean_?” Marco whispered weakly.

“Yeah?”

“ _Can I say something that you might find really weird, and really wrong, and really not okay? But can you like, promise not to panic over it? I mean, you can kill me for it later, if you really hate me for it, but just not react until later_?”

“What are you trying to say Marco? And why are you whispering?”

“ _Just promise me_!?” He hissed.

“Okay! Okay. I promise. Now spill.”

“Okay, I- um…you really, really promise?”

“Yes Marco, God dammit. What the fuck is it?”

“I-I think I’m in love with you.”

 

 

 

 

“…In the gay way?”

“Yeah…the gayest way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting some where! I might hold off on the smut for a bit, sorry~ I prefer to let the love run it's course,...slowly. Hehehe. While I was writing this, I was listening to linkin park, points of authority. Just thought I would let you know. Ha.


	6. He's Far From Subtle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't scream like a girl.

      Ever since I was a kid, people said I was just painfully, _oblivious_.

      Well maybe, I just didn’t give a shit? Or maybe I didn’t want to jump to fucking conclusions, like I always do. Maybe if you would make up your mind to be either, painfully obvious, or painfully mysterious.

 

“ _JEAN, QUIT HITTING ON MIKASA_.”

 

“Lol, fuck you I do what I want.”

 

“ _CAN’T YOU SEE SHE LOVES EREN?????_ ”

 

“Lol ew, no, that’s incest.”

 

“ _SHE’S FUCKING ADOPTED, JEAN_.”

 

“Oh hell no.”

 

      That wasn’t being oblivious, that was just not having knowledge of all the facts. That’s all it was.

“Mikasa, do you love Eren.”

 

“ _Um, yes. A lot._ ”

 

“She totally digs me.”

 

“ _No, Jean I don’t_.”

 

“Eren doesn’t stand a chance.”

 

      That was hope. Hope is a good thing. Don’t blame me for it.

 

“…Jean?” Marco’s voice squeaked.

 

      He had just fucking confessed to me.

      Marco fucking confessed he was gay for me.

      I mean, he was initially gay, not just for me, but for whatever dudes he liked.

      But that dude, was me.

 

“Would you two move it? Mr. Carolina looks like he’s gonna cry if we don’t meet with the rest of the class on time.” Eren groaned from behind us. It’s not like the halls were that full either, like he couldn’t fucking walk around us. He was just doing it to be an ass. But I was too shocked to say anything. Heh, I know, shocking right? Jean Kirschtein ignoring Eren for once in his sucky little life? Who would have fucking thought! Marco didn’t press. He stayed silent, aside from the chewing sound he made, as he nibbled away at his finger nails. Once we had made it to the front entrance, Mr. Zacharias waved from a McDonald’s restaurant that was about three shops down from the front entrance doors. Mr. Carolina nudged us in, taking our orders, before going to talk with Mr. Zacharias about, what no doubt had something to do with Marco and I’s sudden disappearance for the last thirty five fucking minutes.

      Eren and Mikasa went to take a seat, with a couple from our class, while Marco nudged me over to an empty booth. I was too out of it, to move on my own accord. I visibly tensed when Marco slid in next to me, though I continued to stare at the table, making out all the reflections from the ceiling it… reflected. I looked up when I saw Sasha and Connie slide into the booth, the two taking the seat across from us.

 

“WHOA JEAN YOU GOT YOUR EARS PIERCED!? SINCE WHEN!?” Connie exclaimed, clearly surprised.

 

“Today, Connie.” I replied flatly.

 

“Why did you get teal and orange? I mean orange I can understand, but in the 7th grade, you claimed you hated teal? I thought you still did. What changed your mind?” Sasha asked.

 

      Marco’s eyes widened, as he turned to stare at me, his expression questioning.

 

“You _hate_ teal!? Then why-”

 

“Yo Con, do they have bathrooms here?” I blurted.

 

“Yeah, in the back. But I thought you already went, according to Mikas-”

 

“Thanks.” I said sharply, before standing and crawling over Marco, without even asking him to move first, (and I have no doubt that I probably had my ass in his face at one point during the process) then continued to rush towards the bathrooms. I heard footsteps behind me, though I ignored them, and swung open the men’s restroom doors, collapsing over the sink and glaring up at my reflection. The door swung open again, and I turned to see Marco storming in. He stomped up to me, whipping me around, and then locked his lips with mine. It was shocking, and breathless, and kinda violent. It surprised me a lot, considering as soon as he did it, I shoved him away. I stared at him, his pupils dilated as he stared at me.

 

“What the fuck Marco!? What the hell are you doing!?” I stammered.

 

“I-I, just…I’m sorry Jean.” He slurred.

 

      And then I saw it.

      Marco was crying now.

      It stung too. To see him cry like that. It was a blank kind of cry.

      Damn, I never felt a guilt trip this strong before.

 

“Marco, why the hell are you crying?” I asked, as calmly as possible.

 

“I’m n-not.” He sniffled.

 

“Marco stop. You can’t cry. That’s worse than professional snack dealers and sexuality-ists combined.”

 

“Heh, I-I guess I just really love you. I’m sorry.”

 

      I stared at him.

      I just stared.

      I didn’t know how I was supposed to react. Someone sincerely loved me, and he just had to be a guy. He just had to be my friend. He just had to be the one crying because of me right now.

 

“I love you, because you make me laugh. You make me smile whenever I think about you. You scream like a girl, and then deny it. You hate yourself, when you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. You’re gonna fucking wear your least favorite color on your ear for a month, because, I don’t even know why. I love you, because I kinda think you like me. That’s not even a good reason, but I can’t help it. I just love you.” He smiled up at me weakly. It was more like an embarrassed smile, then a proud one. And that was a first. He was being so sincere with me. So… not, subtle. Except,

 

“I _don’t_ fucking scream like a girl.” I muttered.

 

“You kinda do.”

 

“Nuh uh.”

 

“Yeah huh.”

 

“Nuh uh.”

 

“Yeah huh.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Please do.”

 

“ _Fucking_ \- ugh.” I laughed. I actually kind of wanted this. I wanted to hug him, and not be considered weirdly close to my best friend. I wanted to laugh with him, and not be considered desperate. I wanted to be able to joke like this, and not try to break the awkwardness of it, by claiming it ‘no homo’. I wanted to kiss him again.

 

“Marco, do it again.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Kiss me. Again.”

 

      His eyes widened, as he eased up his posture. He was like a dog, perking up at the mention of going for a walk or some shit.

 

“Are, are _you_ asking me to-”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you sure-”

 

“Fuck yes.”

 

      And I was. I wanted _him_ to. I wanted _him_ to kiss me.

      He paced slowly over towards me, his eyes staring into mine, like he was trying to find if I was being serious or not, he placed his hand behind my head, easing me forward slowly, and cautiously, easing his head down to match his lips with mine like a puzzle. He leaned in and-

 

“Sorry, but can I just escape before this gets too graphic?” Asked a familiar small voice.

 

“A-Armin!?” I exclaimed, shoving Marco away to see the blonde standing awkwardly behind him.

 

 _HOW HAD I NOT SEEN HIM_!?

 

“Yeah. Jean it’s me. Can I please go now?” He sounded ashamed; his face was red in embarrassment. Just like mine.

 

“By all means.” I stuttered quietly.

 

“Okay then, I’ll go now.” He replied, while rushing out of the bathroom doors. Marco and I stood in silence for about two minutes, before Marco turned to look at me. We were both brimming with laughter at that point. I didn’t even care about the threat Armin caused. Because Marco was happy. And that meant I was happy. Without another word, I dragged down Marco’s neck, until our faces were equal, before slamming my lips into his. It was far from as graceful as the swan lake, but it was around as elegant as hip hop. Not bad I guess. Marco was smiling through the kiss, and I knew, he knew, just how badly I was at kissing in the initiative.

      But I still hated Marco.

      I never said I loved him.

 

 

 

 

      At least not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh~


	7. He's Serious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco Butt. Very clever Connie. Very clever.

      Relationships.

      I don’t really see why people make a big deal out of them.

      Sure, I've wanted a girlfriend, though imagining a heart-breaking break up, I don’t think I'd enjoy it.

      Mikasa was kinda my exception. Because she’d be super hot when doing it. She’s be wearing these big ass black high heels, and those tights with the holes, and just slap me with some leather glove and be like, ‘ _it’s over bitch’_ then strut off. And that would be totally worth it.

      But aside from Mikasa, how would I react? I’m kinda picky in the sense, where I’ll look for that ‘one’ and then fight for them. I don’t like the idea of choosing just anyone.

      I’d be broken if they broke off with me, I think. Maybe that’s why I’m still alone.

      I’d probably be the most annoying, clingy, over protective boyfriend.

      Would he hate me for it?

.o.o.o.

 

“He-hey Mom…”

     

      I mutter, cowering underneath her solid stare. She hadn't blinked once yet.

 

“Jean, what are those on your ears, child?” She asked finally.

 

     If I was to handle this in a cool sense, it would be best to act all sarcastic and shit. So that’s what I did.

 

“Isn't it obvious-?”

 

“ME.” Marco said suddenly, ruining my 'too cool for school' approach.

 

“Excuse me?” Mom asked him accusingly.

 

“I, I kinda dared him to do it. To pierce his ears, I mean. Sorry about that.”

 

“ _Kinda?_ -”

 

“Oh Marco, I don’t blame you. If anything, it’s Jean’s own fault-”

 

“MOOOM!? HE DARED ME TO DO IT!” I exclaimed.

 

      Why the fuck was she blaming me!?

 

 “Don’t ‘mooom’ me, boy. You could have said no.”

 

“But-”

 

“No.”

 

“Mom-”

 

“No.”

 

“Marco-”

 

“She said no, Jean.” Marco implied.

 

“Marco!?”

 

“How should I punish you for this, Jean Kirschtein?” She asked sternly.

 

“What!?”

 

“I could think of something,” Marco offered, literally out of the blue. Like it was a normal fucking thing to do.

 

“Why, thank you Marco.” Mom smiled warmly at him.

 

     You.

 

     Have got.

 

      To be.

 

      Fucking.

 

      Kidding me.

 

      Right?

 

“WHAT!?”

 

"You've been a bad boy Jean, and bad boys need discipline, don’t you think?” Marco asked teasingly, his voice sounding dark.

 

“Marco!?”

 

“Then I’ll leave you to it, freckled Satan.” Mom replied, before suddenly vanishing into the darkness that had spontaneously spread.

 

“Wait- mom!? Why the hell did you call him-”

 

      I suddenly felt a sudden shove backwards, sending me falling against a cushioned surface.

      A bed.

      Marco landed on top of me, grinning devilishly.

     What was going on!?

 

“Jeanie, how should I go about punishing you, hmm?” He asked, fake sweetness in his voice. Though I couldn't see it, I could feel his hand tugging at my belt.

     I felt really-

 

      Turned on.

      Like, whoa. Epic boner over here ladies- And Marco, I guess.

 

“ _Hey Jean_?” A voice echoed against the scene.

 

“ _Jean? Wake up! We’re back_ at the school now…Jean? Are you dead? Helloooo?”

 

      I slowly felt myself come too, and blinked at a blurry brown thing. It looked like a talking shit.

 

“M-Marco?” I groaned annoyed.

 

“P-polo. Come on, the bus is already empty. We’ll be the last to get off. Let’s go cowboy.” He urged, his hand firmly gripping my bicep.

 

“Yeah, listen to your friend Kirschtein! I've gotta park this boat back at the docks before my shift ends, or I’ll have screwed my possible meal ticket. So in other words, get off already. Grumbled Dita, our bus driver. He was a pretty okay guy, if not your average psychotic smoker. But when he was late for his shift, he could be a real panic attack dick head.

 

      I staggered upward, snatching up my backpack before shoving ahead of Marco and leaping majestically from the bus steps. I could hear Marco apologizing to Dita from behind, before following me off the bus.

 

“Hya sleepy head!” Sasha giggled as she slinked up to us with Connie in tow. She shoved a stick of cinnamon gum in her mouth while she yacked on about something. I have no clue, how people can tolerate that sickly spicy cinnamon shit, but if it was edible, you can bet it’s been up in Sasha’s mouth. Wait. Okay that sounded really wrong ignore that please. Oh god, just pretend I didn't think/say that. Just don't.

 

“I would have scribbled dicks all over your fugly face, had Marco Butt over here let me.” Connie pouted. I glared at him in annoyance, but touché’d him for the clever nickname.  I turned to glance at Marco, who was flushing for some reason. He seemed kinda out of it.

 

“So Jean, how do you expect mamma Kirschtein to react to the bejeweled lobes you got there?” Sasha asked in between gum smacks.

 

      I really wished she hadn't mentioned it. Because a whole lot of different thoughts came to mind.

      What if Mom found out about Marco? And the kiss?

      What if she thought he was a bad influence because of my pierced ears?

      On second thought, scratch that. Because even I think Marco is a bad influence on me. Maybe I could pass the blame on to someone like _Jaeger_ …

 

“Hey Jean? You okay?” Connie asked.

 

“Hm? Oh yeah. Fine.” I answered abruptly.

 

“You know I’ll cover you right? I’m the one at fault after all.” Marco offered solemnly.

 

“ _I bet you will_.” I muttered without thought.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Oh. Nothin.” I flushed.

 

“Jean Kirschtein? Marco Bodt?” Called Mr. Carolina.

 

     Oh shit.

     He caught sight of us, and marched towards our little huddle.

 

“Mr. Zackly would like to see you in his office.”

 

“Okay.” Marco replied, grabbing me where he always grabs me, by my bicep, and pulling me towards the office building. I’m beginning to wonder if he hasn’t heard of a thing called, Jean can walk on his fucking own two feet you over protective- Oh.

      Once we entered through the office doors, Petra, or Ms. Ral as she’s also known as, greeted us from her seat behind the front desk.

 

“Hello Marco! How’s school been going for you?” She asked sweetly, though she didn't seem genuinely interested.

 

“It’s been interesting. We’re here to see Mr. Zackly?”

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“Maybe. Is he ready for us?”

 

“I can go check-”

 

“Ah! Mr. Bodt and Kirschtein! Come on in!” Mr. Zackly boomed, almost sending a startled Petra flying out of her cool rolling chair thing. Why couldn't the class rooms have those? On second thought I can think of _many_ good reasons why we can’t, so never mind.

      Marco dragged me into Mr. Zackly’s office, and plopped me down next to him in one of the two chairs available. I wasn't sure what he would have done if there had only been one chair. Probably perch me on his lap or something.

 

“So, I here you two wandered off during the field trip?”

 

“Got lost.” Marco stated.

 

“Hm?”

 

“We went to the bathroom, and we got lost. I wanted to ask for directions but Jean said no. We passed by a piercing shop, and we had to be customers in order to use the bathroom there.” Marco furthered explained.

 

“I see. And you couldn't check a different shop?”

     

      Damn, it felt like we we're criminals in a court or something, with Principal Zackly as our judge.

 

“…He has a very fragile bladder…” I replied for Marco.

 

“ _Jean!?_ ” Marco whined through gritted teeth. I scoffed quietly.

 

“I see. Well, Mr. Zacharias? What do you think?”

 

      Marco and I whipped around to see the big hunk of a teacher standing in the corner, hidden by the shadows. Marco jumped a little, not having seen the guy beforehand, though neither had I, but me being my _manly_ self, didn’t jump in the slightest.

 

“Hmm. Give them the slip this time.” He offered bluntly. His eyes were mostly trained on me. To be honest this hadn’t been my first time to the office, for something involving Mr. Zacharias’s class.

 

“Alright then. But next time you two won’t get so lucky. Understood?” Mr. Zackly asked.

 

“Yeah.” Marco and I both said in sync.

 

“Then go ahead, get your things, and go home.”

 

“Got it.” Marco replied before grabbing me up and walking out, with me in hand.

 

“Jesus Marco, I can walk on my own.” I whined.

 

“Oh, sorry.” He smiled, releasing me.

 

“What’s up?” I could tell he had something stupid and pointless on his mind. I could tell when he first grabbed hold of me.

 

“Jean, what now?” he asked.

 

“Wha?”

 

“I mean, what are we gonna do now? Are we, just going to stay friends, or are we going to…I don’t know. What do you want to happen?”

 

      He was really serious about us.

      And it seemed so sudden, I hadn't really thought about it.

 

“Let’s just, wait it out? See what it, um, becomes? I guess?”

 

“Okay…”

 

“YO! KIRSCHTEIN! BODT BOY!” called a bellowing voice.

 

      Both Marco and I turned to see a hulk-like blonde rushing up to us.

 

“Hey Reiner.” I greeted.

 

“I’m having a party this weekend!” He chanted as soon as he had caught his breath. “You guys wanna come? The theme is rainbow~”

 

“You’re kidding right? How on earth do you intend to get away with that shit?” I growled.

 

      Marco looked between me and Reiner, clearly confused as fuck.

 

“He means meth.” I replied.

 

      Oh man, if you could have seen the way his eyes popped.

 

“ _DRUGS!?_ ” He whisper-screamed.

 

“ _FUCK YES._ ” Reiner replied excitedly.

 

“You don’t have to do them Marco. If anything, the party only mostly consists of drinking. That’s it.”

 

“You've been to one?” He asked, still a little shaken.

 

“Yeah. Reiner’s parties are the only parties worth going to.”

 

“Why thank you, Kirschtein.” Reiner grinned. “So, are you guys gonna come? Or-”

 

“Yeah, I’ll be there for sure. Marco?” I asked nodding towards him.

 

“I- uh, um…”

 

“Yeah He’ll be coming.” Reiner answered for him.

 

“Yeah.” I agreed. Marco stared at us in horror.

 

“Well, it’s Saturday, at 9. You know where I live Kirschtein, so make sure to drag this bitch along with you.” Reiner shouted before dashing off. When he called Marco a bitch, I couldn't help but think of a dog reference.

 

“Jean, I don’t drink!” Marco whined as soon as Reiner was out of sight.

 

“Well, now you will!” I smiled, before rushing though the main building doors, towards my locker.

 

      And I wasn't lying.

 

      I was gonna get Marco drunk off his ass.

 

      And then proceed to feed him drinks until he passes out.

 

      And then take a permanent marker and play connect the dots on his face.

 

      And his knuckle.

 

     Because there is a dick there.

     Waiting to be set free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for not updating for so long, I was- well, I'll be honest, I was doing nothing. I wasn't sure how to go about updating this for chapter 7, since I wanted to do a scene jump, and just skip to the partay. But I felt I should shove in a little follow up first. Also, thanks to all the comments I received, after reading through them all last night, they really helped motivate me! So thank you for all of those! I'm not sure I'll be having a reaction from mamma Kirschtein, but if you have any suggestions, leave them on my tumblr colored-eyes101! Thanks for reading, and remember, that any comments are my favorite motivation! :D


	8. For the Record

Hi everybody it's been years. I'm working on an update remarkably, but please be aware that my writing style has drastically changed due to me getting older, college, and interest in this fandom. It'll probably be very different and I'm a bit scared of the results in all honesty because the difference is so  **drastic**. But nonetheless I'll be throwing one together and hopefully it'll turn out well. I've already got something close to half way done, with an idea of how to orchestrate it, and then I'll probably edit it since right now it seems very lackluster in the comedy department, mainly because I'm not in a funny mood right now aha. But yeah, something to look forward to. :)

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to join the JeanxMarco bandwagon so here I am! Sorry my writings tend to be short, but that's because I lack the patience to take my time. So do excuse me for that. My tumblr is colored-eyes101 so feel free to come and pay me a visit whenever you feel up to it. Please leave me comments for advise and such, because I do value it, and would love to know your opinion of my writing prompt. And thanks again for reading!


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